


Companionship

by WestOrEast



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: AU, F/F, Massage, Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-03-26 18:53:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13863852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WestOrEast/pseuds/WestOrEast
Summary: As a Companion-in-training, Taylor always needs someone to help practice her skills on. And there are so many people in Brockton Bay who are willing to help her.





	1. Chapter 1

Taylor was proud to know that she came from a long line of distinguished workers. It wasn’t everyone, after all, who belonged to a family that had been Companions with a capital C for the past four generations. And Taylor would do her best to ensure she upheld the family honor and legacy.  
  
Admittedly, at the age of fifteen, she wasn’t quite ready to become a full-fledged companion, but she still did her best. And her best friend, Emma, didn’t seem to mind being the test dummy for Taylor’s practice sessions.  
  
And there was a lot to practice. Singing (which Taylor wasn’t good at), dancing (which she was), intelligent, witty conversation (which was a work in progress) and a half a dozen other disciplines. Taylor worked hard, trying to master them all, and looked forward to her visits with Emma. The redhead always showed gratifying levels of appreciation over her, and Taylor could really let her guard down and relax around her.  
  
That was why Taylor was headed to the Barnes house, underneath a baking summer skin. Even just walking down the street, Taylor did her best to keep to the Companion training, keeping her back straight and her shoulders up. Even though she had practicing for years and years, it still didn’t come entirely naturally to her. Not at all like her parents, who oozed enough refinement and charm to make Taylor green with jealousy.  
  
As Taylor turned onto the block Emma lived on, she could see her friend standing outside. She was talking to someone, a black girl Taylor had never seen before. Taylor raised an eyebrow, and wondered what was up. Emma had a lot more friends than Taylor, but she couldn’t remember ever seeing this girl before.  
  
She was halfway up the walkway before Emma noticed her. She smiled and waved at Taylor. Taylor smiled back, though inside she was frowning. Part of her training revolved around reading people, and even from this distance, in so short a time, she could tell that something was wrong with her friend.  
  
Something to talk about later, though. Right now, it was time for introductions. The black girl had turned around when she saw Emma waving, and Taylor got her first good look at her.  
  
She was attractive, in a more energetic way than Emma’s traditional femininity. She was taller than Emma, though shorter than Taylor, and was as about as skinny as her (though Taylor preferred _lean_.) She had medium-length, curly black hair and brown eyes. Corded muscle stood out on her bare limbs. Taylor saw her measuring Taylor as Taylor measured her. All in all, she was quite good looking.  
  
“Hi Emma,” Taylor said, nodding first at her and then at the new girl. “It’s good to see you.”  
  
“Same here,” Emma replied. Her gaze flicked back and forth between the two girls in front of her before she spoke up again. “Taylor, this is Sophia. Sophia, Taylor.”  
  
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Taylor said, extending a hand to shake with.  
  
Sophia grunted, and kept her hands at her sides. Taylor kept a small smile on her face as she was rebuffed, not letting her inner feelings show.  
  
Emma quickly managed to pass over the troubled moment, displaying social skills that were just as developed as Taylor’s should be.  
  
“Won’t you both come in? It’s much too hot out to just stand on the doorstep. Juice? Water?”  
  
“Fine,” Sophia said, almost grunted. “But then I should be heading out. Got real work to do.”  
  
Taylor wondered how Emma and Sophia had ended up meeting. She was doing her best not to think bad things about the girl (after all, if you didn’t think bad things, they couldn’t show up on your face), but Sophia was not making it easy to like her.  
  
Taylor followed the two of them inside Emma’s house. The coolness of air conditioning was a welcome relief after the walk outside.  
  
“Taylor’s a Companion in training, you know,” Emma said conversationally, as she led the two of them into her house.  
  
It was almost as if a different mind entered Sophia’s body at that. She turned her head and gaze Taylor another, more appreciating gaze.  
  
“She is? You are?”  
  
Taylor was used to a certain level of disbelief when people found out she was a Companion. She knew she didn’t look like what popular culture said one was. Not that anyone would, not without make-up and some tailored clothing.  
  
“Yes. Since birth, really.” Modesty, or at least false modesty, was another important part of being a companion. People liked to talk about themselves, and it wouldn’t do for their friend for the night to upstage them, even if they were more cultured or worldly than their current client.  
  
“Really? What’s it like?” For the first time, Sophia was displaying some interest. And since she was past puberty, Taylor thought she knew why.  
  
There was a pervasive idea that Companions were nothing more than prostitutes that dressed nicely. And while sex was an important part of their duties, it wasn’t the only part, or even the biggest. Taylor, for instance, thought she was about eighty percent of the way done with her training, and had never taken a lover, or even done more than the basic exercises in _The Way of Pleasure_. That wouldn’t last forever, especially since she had hit puberty a few years ago.  
  
“I don’t really have something to compare it too,” Taylor answered. “There’s not another life I can call on to match notes with, after all. But I do do a lot of work, every day. Lessons with my parents, classes, that sort of thing. Do you take lessons in anything?”  
  
“I work out,” Sophia said. Taylor could have sworn something flashed between her and Emma at that, but she had no idea what. Emma certainly didn’t do much in the way of exercise, so they wouldn’t have met at a class.  
  
“Really? Do you focus on any particular styles?” Taylor responded, drawing on her training to keep a conversation going.  
  
She was pleased to note that she did a good enough job that Sophia sat down, and didn’t mention having to leave soon. Soon, the three of them were chatting fairly amicably, Emma’s and Taylor’s social skills smoothing over the rough spots Sophia often threw up.  
  
There was a lull in the conversation as all three of them worked at their drinks. As Taylor sipped at her juice, Sophia turned to her.  
  
“So if I wanted to have sex with you, would I pay you or what?”  
  
Emma’s drink went all over the tabletop as she barked out a single, hoarse laugh. Taylor swallowed the wrong way, and had to deal with half a mouthful of orange juice going down the wrong pipe. As she spluttered, she put on enough of a show for Sophia crack a smile. It took a while for Taylor to get her breath back enough to speak.  
  
“No, no, I-“ her raspy voice broke off again. Her forced break let her get a better hold over herself. “Even if I was a fully qualified and licensed Companion, I’d offer a lot more to do together than just have sex.” Sophia’s face showed what she thought of any other possible activities. “But since I’m not, and won’t be for a few more years, no, you can’t pay me for sex.”  
  
Internally, Taylor sighed. Yes, most people thought the difference between a Companion and a whore was how much money changed hands. It still didn’t exactly feel like sunshine and kittens to be reminded of the stereotype, though.  
  
“Huh,” Sophia said. She sat back and stared hard at Taylor. Maybe she was trying to decide if Taylor was lying or not. Taylor fought the urge to roll her eyes, at least while Sophia was looking.  
  
“So what do you do?” Sophia asked.  
  
Taylor took another sip of juice to give herself a minute. What did she do as she was trained into being a Companion? A lot of things, most of them not very interesting. But there were still a few amusing anecdotes she could share.  
  
Taylor led off with a story about the time when she was eight and wanted to look as pretty as her mom. So, one afternoon, she popped open the makeup case while her parents went off to their annual recertification.  
  
Her description of what she looked like when they came home, and how she was frantically scrubbing her face, had both Emma and Sophia laughing. And that was quite the accomplishment, Taylor thought. Emma had heard the story at least a dozen times over the years, and Sophia didn’t look like someone who laughed often. But they were both chuckling. Taylor sat back, a vague sense of warmth filling her.  
  
The next hour passed pretty smoothly. Sophia unwound a bit, lowering her almost visible hackles as Emma and Taylor swapped stories, and she shared a few of her own. When Emma left to go use the bathroom, Sophia was leaning on the table next to Taylor.  
  
Almost before Emma had turned the corner, Sophia was looking at Taylor. Taylor looked back, raising her eyebrows. What Sophia did next didn’t come as a huge surprise.  
  
There was a long moment of hesitation with Sophia’s hand half-outstretched to Taylor. Nervousness visibly rested on her face before she completed the gesture, grabbing Taylor’s shoulder. Her grip was feather-light for a second before it tightened.  
  
“So if I wanted to hire a Companion, how would I…” she trailed off, nervousness and confusion getting the better of her.  
  
This time Taylor did roll her eyes. If Sophia took offense at it, she didn’t have time to comment on it. Taylor quickly stood up, sending her chair skidding back. Taking a half step forward, she thrust her head forward.  
  
Sophia’s lips were very soft. Taylor could tell that in the half-second she had to kiss the black girl before Sophia jerked her head back. Sophia’s eyes were wide and almost panicked. It seemed that she couldn’t take it was well as she could give it. (And she couldn’t give it that well.) There was a big, luminescent blush forming.  
  
“You’ll have to wait,” Taylor said, smirking. Her hands rose up to grab Sophia’s upper arms. “But, in a few months, I’ll start my sexual training. And I’ll need a partner to practice with off the clock.” The invitation wasn’t actually stated, but Sophia still caught it.  
  
There was a moment of hesitation, then a self-satisfied smile spread across her face. She grabbed Taylor’s upper arms, running her thumbs over Taylor’s shirt.  
  
“Yeah. Yeah, if you ever want to do some off the books practicing, give me a call.”  
  
Emma came back into the room, glancing at the two of them. A satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as she watched the two of them.  
  
“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” she asked, almost innocently.  
  
Taylor and Sophia kept on staring at each other, silently daring one another to be the first to break contact. After a minute or so, Taylor did, and acted like she hadn’t been competing at all.  
  
“No, not really,” she said. “So, have you decided what lessons you’re going to take?” The conversation moved on after that, and neither Sophia or Taylor brought the subject up again. They were both thinking about it, though.  
  
Over the next year, Taylor got to know Sophia better. It wasn’t easy, or always enjoyable, but she did learn more about her. And in the process, managed to sand down a few of the innumerable rough edges Sophia possessed. She was still an aggressive, domineering young woman, but Taylor usually managed to drag her back from being an outright bully.  
  
She could still be very aggressive, especially towards Taylor. And Taylor really didn’t mind that. Like right now, for instance.  
  
Taylor had just been leaving class, adjusting her backpack on her shoulders, when she felt a strong hand grab her shoulder. She didn’t even try to break the grip, and just looked backwards. Sure enough, it was Sophia. A hard, closed-mouth smile was on her face as she looked at Taylor.  
  
“Hello, Sophia,” Taylor said calmly. She knew where this was going.  
  
“Hey,” Sophia grunted. She started forward, dragging Taylor behind her. Taylor didn’t try to put up a fight.  
  
Sure enough, Sophia led her to a quiet corner inside the doorway of a dark class. She shoved Taylor into the secluded space formed by the gap between two locker blocks. Almost before Taylor’s back had hit the wall, Sophia was on her.  
  
Her kisses were aggressive and demanding, her tongue forcing its way into Taylor’s mouth. Taylor let it, let her take the lead. She wrapped her arms around Sophia’s back, sliding down to just above her rear.  
  
Sophia really didn’t know what to do with her hands, even after all the times the two of them had made out. She switched from tugging at Taylor’s clothes, to running her hands up and down her body, to grabbing her rear, all within a minute or so.  
  
Taylor, meanwhile, knew exactly what she was doing. She tugged Sophia closer, until their bodies were pressed against each other. She didn’t do more than that, not yet. She was willing to let Sophia take the lead. Her unsure, haphazard lead. Later, once her initial burst of aggressive energy had been burned out, then Taylor would take control, and once more try to coax Sophia into learning how to bring pleasure to a woman’s body.  
  
Breaking the kiss, Taylor leaned her head back. Sophia followed her, trying to kiss her again. There was a faint flush on her dark skin, proof of how much she was enjoying this. Taylor imagined that if she felt Sophia’s crotch, she would get even more proof.  
  
“How much do you want, Sophia?”  
  
Sophia growled and nipped at the base of Taylor’s neck. When she spoke, her lips were pressed against Taylor’s skin. She shivered as she felt the words vibrate through her body.  
  
“I want all of you. Every last drop, every last sigh. You’re mine.”  
  
That was about as romantic as Sophia got. And, to be fair, it was somewhat romantic, in a raw, rough-edged way.  
  
“Right here in school,” Taylor whispered, teasingly. “Naughty girl. Risky girl.”  
  
Sophia snarled, her breath hot against Taylor’s skin. Her hands were starting to linger, roughly grabbing at Taylor’s rear.  
  
“Who the fuck cares? All these yellow bellies won’t say a word even if we did it at a school assembly.”  
  
That wasn’t the first time Sophia had mentioned having sex where others could see. Taylor was starting to think that her… She wasn’t sure what Sophia was to her, not exactly. Taylor was starting to think that Sophia had a exhibitionistic streak, and not just a disregard for what others thought. Well, it wouldn’t be the kinkiest fetish Taylor would be called on to explore, as a companion.  
  
That was for later consideration, and consulting with her parents. Right now…  
  
Taylor glanced over Sophia’s shoulder. There was nobody watching them. They had been kissing long enough for the passing period to end, so everyone (including Taylor and Sophia) should have been back in class. But it wasn’t terribly likely anybody important would notice or care that they were gone. Winslow really was a dump, but sometimes it worked in Taylor’s favor.  
  
In the time it had taken for Taylor to make sure they weren’t bout to be interrupted, Sophia had grown needy. And she expressed it in the only way she knew how; by taking action.  
  
Taylor’s head was pulled back down into another kiss. Taylor had been about to say something, but that could wait until later. Right now, she was kissing her lover, who was short enough to have to stand on her tiptoes to kiss Taylor, and prickly enough the make out session would end right now if Taylor mentioned that fact.  
  
Taylor still loved how perfectly Sophia fit in her arms, and how nice it was to hold her close when they kissed. The kiss this time was longer, with Sophia’s teeth scraping against Taylor’s lips. When they finally broke, both of them were panting and flushed. Taylor took a deep breath.  
  
“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” her eyes danced while Sophia’s rolled, “how do you want your everything? On the desk in there?” She jerked her head backward, indicating the dark room behind her.  
  
“Fuck yes,” Sophia growled, her hands leaving Taylor’s butt to paw at the door.  
  
Surprisingly, the door was unlocked. It was lucky for the teacher that Taylor and Sophia had nothing more than a make out session planned. There were plenty of students at Winslow who would take an unlocked classroom as an invitation to get creative with spray-paint.  
  
The two of them tumbled into the room, no longer able to keep their hands off each other. Taylor did her best to remember her Companion training, to keep thinking with her head and not her lust. It was hard, as Sophia’s smell filled her nostrils, and her small sounds filled her ears. She wanted to pounce on Sophia and just eat her up.  
  
Taylor backed up towards the front of the room, almost falling over as her and Sophia’s legs intertwined. The last few yards were a stumbling, backwards run as she tried to get to the desk before she fell over. Taylor only just made it. She sat down heavily on the desk, laughing as Sophia fell into her lap.  
  
Taylor could barely see Sophia in the dark, the only light provided by the half-open door across the room. There was little more than the outline of her form, now indistinct, now clearer as Sophia moved her body back and forth in front of the light. She still looked beautiful.  
  
Taylor reached up and tugged Sophia to her. She kept Sophia pressed against her by wrapping her legs around Sophia’s hips. That freed her hands to wander over Sophia’s body. It was a wonderful mixture of firmness and softness. Especially when Taylor ran her hands up over Sophia’s stomach. First she felt Sophia’s rock-hard abs, and then she slid up onto her breasts. She couldn’t get a very good feel, with Sophia’s shirt and bra in the way. But she could still feel the heat radiating off of Sophia’s body.  
  
Sophia wasn’t just sitting there and letting Taylor molest her. Her hands were even more busy, though less skilled. There was sadly less to explore on Taylor’s body than Sophia’s, but Sophia didn’t show any signs of disappointment. She alternated between kissing Taylor and nipping at her as her hands ran wild over Taylor’s body, tugging at clothes or stroking her.  
  
Sophia couldn’t decide if she wanted Taylor to be naked or keep her clothes on. Sometimes her hands were underneath Taylor’s waistband, rubbing against her panties with strong fingers. Other times, they trying to take Taylor’s shirt off. Normally, Taylor could get naked pretty quickly. Right now, though, she was hampered since she was trying to do the same to Sophia, and neither of them were interested in stopping and letting the other do their work and then starting again.  
  
It was only when Taylor heard the sound of ripping fabric that she stopped. A quick glance down reassured her. Not only was it Sophia’s clothes, not hers, it was Sophia’s jeans. Since they were already torn, nobody would notice or care that one of the rips exposing her dark skin was a bit bigger now.  
  
Drawing her hands back, Taylor let Sophia tug at her clothing. Once a piece was removed, Taylor did the same to Sophia. And it went much quicker than fighting each other over who got to strip who first.  
  
Soon, both Taylor and Sophia were partly disrobed. Taylor had her shirt off, revealing a black bra to Sophia. Sophia’s pants were around her ankles, and her panties were pulled to one side. Taylor was taking full advantage of her access, even as Sophia tried to stay on top.  
  
But all of Sophia’s confidence and aggressiveness couldn’t stand up to Taylor’s Companion training. By degrees, Taylor took more and more of the lead. Soon, even though she was underneath Sophia, Taylor was the one setting the pace. To be fair, it was hard for Sophia to concentrate with what Taylor’s fingers were doing inside of her.  
  
Taylor knew just how to spread the two fingers she had inside Sophia to make her lover feel as good as possible. Even in the gloom, Taylor could see Sophia’s eyes widen as Taylor rubbed the back of her finger against the sweet spot inside Sophia’s pussy. It was a lovely sight, the way Sophia whimpered. And then Sophia tried to return the favor.  
  
Sophia started playing with Taylor’s breasts, or, more accurately, her nipples. She ran her fingers over them, lust making her movements clumsy. Taylor arced her back, trying to push her chest more firmly against Sophia’s wandering hands. Even as she did that, she kept up her work inside Sophia’s core.  
  
Even when Taylor was flat on her back and Sophia was towering above her, Taylor was in control. Sophia was making some sweet, sweet noises as Taylor molded her around her fingers. Sophia was so nice and tight, her walls clamping down on Taylor like a velvet vise. Taylor felt her own arousal grow, even as Sophia lost the coordination to pay proper attention to Taylor’s body.  
  
With her free hand, Taylor brushed against Sophia’s breast. Sophia moaned in the back of her throat. Taylor scrabbled at Sophia’s bra, trying to slip underneath and get at the soft, warm flesh underneath. Sophia helped her, almost tearing her bra in two in her haste to get more stimulation.  
  
Finally, Sophia’s chest was bared. Taylor took instant advantage, cupping one of Sophia’s breasts in her hand. A hard nipple poked against her palm as she gently massaged Sophia’s sensitive chest.  
  
Sophia’s arms came crashing down to either side of Taylor. In the dim light, Taylor could just make out Sophia’s expression. It was needy and hungry, and half a dozen more emotions besides. And it was all because of her. It sent a thrill through her, to see someone looking like that because of her. Taylor wanted to see more of it.  
  
She twisted her fingers just so inside Sophia, and got a lovely reward. Sophia doubled over, moaning as her core squeezed down. It was like she was trying to break Taylor’s fingers in two, she was squeezing so hard. Taylor loved it. And nit just because it was a testament to her skills, but because it was _Sophia_ acting like this. That made it so much sweeter.  
  
Sophia slumped to the side. Taylor was doing too much inside her for her to remain upright, which was one of the best testaments to her skills that she could get. Taylor helped Sophia lay down on the desk, gently cradling her as Sophia gave up even the pretense of being in charge.  
  
With the new position, Taylor could bring her tongue into play. It was easy enough to get Sophia’s shirt pulled up enough, revealing her bare chest underneath it. Taylor made a note to try and remember to grab Sophia’s bra before they left the classroom. As nice as it would be watch Sophia’s breasts bounce around underneath her shirt, Sophia wouldn’t see it quite so positively.  
  
Admittedly, Sophia would probably agree to walk around without a stich of clothing on if Taylor asked her right now. She was gasping out Taylor’s name as her hands waved around. First they were clutching at the edge of the desk, and then at Taylor’s head, and then her own body. Sophia just couldn’t stay still, and Taylor loved how much energy she was showing off.  
  
Taylor was half on the desk, half off. One hand was buried in between Sophia’s legs, fingers pumping away at her pink slit while her thumb rubbed Sophia’s clit. Meanwhile, Taylor’s mouth was busy running along Sophia’s chest. She tasted wonderful, and Taylor couldn’t get enough of her as she made Sophia dance underneath her.  
  
“Taylor! Oh fuck, Taylor!”  
  
Sophia’s cry of orgasm had to be the sweetest sound in the world. Taylor looked up from Sophia’s chest, eyes dancing as she watched her dark-skinned lover’s face. It contorted and Sophia’s head whipped around as the lust boiling inside her stormed out of her.  
  
Sophia squeezed down even tighter than before around Taylor’s fingers, her walls trying to milk the cum out of a phantom penis.  
  
Taylor slowed her pace, her fingers stilling inside Sophia. She’d need a few moments to recover. But her physique, her endurance would mean she would be demanding more soon. And Taylor planned to give it to her. Just like Emma was a great way for Taylor to practice the social skills demanded of a Companion, Sophia was a more than willing practice dummy for Taylor’s sexual skills.  
  
Of course, Sophia meant more to Taylor than just someone to practice on. For all her she had learned about emotions (and how to manipulate them), Taylor wasn’t able to describe exactly what Sophia was to her. Not her best friend, that was surely Emma. And she wasn’t exactly her girlfriend. It was some confusing in-between state, where they had sex but didn’t get too emotionally engaged. And so far, it had worked for both of them.  
  
Sophia squirmed, making for some interesting sensations around the fingers Taylor still had buried inside of her. She pushed herself up on her elbows, looking at Taylor through the gloom. Taylor could see the gleam of white teeth flashing a quick smile.  
  
“Don’t, don’t tell me your tired already,” Sophia said, her voice a curious mixture of happiness and tenseness. “I’m only just getting started.”  
  
“Don’t you think we should get to class?” Taylor asked, her voice full of faux-innocence. Even her face showed concern and worry, not that Sophia could see.  
  
There was a short pause, before Sophia burst into laughter. Taylor joined her. Still chuckling, Taylor lowered her head back to Sophia’s breast. Sophia shivered as she felt Taylor’s warm breath wash over her skin. Her laughter turned into a gasp as Taylor popped her nipple into her mouth.  
  
Sophia looked beautiful when she was needy and on her back. She would never agree to be in that position, and could even get nasty if Taylor said she was a sub. And yet, time and again, Sophia ended up flat on her back, squirming around as Taylor gave her pleasure in a way and manner that pleased Taylor, not her.  
  
It was quite the amusing contradiction, not that Taylor could share it with anyone. Companion ethics had a lot to say about client privacy, after all. But she could always treasure these small moments when she was alone, picturing the way Sophia looked and sounded and felt.  
  
Taylor left Sophia’s breasts to dash up for a kiss. Sophia squeaked, but quickly kissed back. Her arms finally found something to do. She wrapped them around Taylor’s head, trapping her in the kiss. Not that either of them thought it was a trap.  
  
Even as they kissed, Taylor’s fingers kept moving in and out of Sophia’s pussy. She swore it got wetter as they kissed. She could feel Sophia’s large, uncovered clitoris. It was almost cheating, how easy it was to stimulate Sophia by playing with it. When Taylor wanted to test out her lovemaking skills, she had to do her best to not touch it, and instead focus on all the other ways that Sophia could get pleasure from.  
  
And there were so many ways to bring Sophia pleasure. Her breasts, obviously. And the rest of her pussy too. Occasionally she even let Taylor play with her ass, though she didn’t seem sensitive enough to actually cum from it. And there were far, far more ways to do foreplay. Taylor had discovered an unexpected talent for erotic massage. She could reduce almost anybody into a boneless pile of pleasure within half an hour.  
  
It was a pity she didn’t have the time or the equipment right now. It was always so fun to watch Sophia’s strength melt out of her as pleasure eroded her ability to do anything but lay there and let Taylor do anything she wanted. Not that she was putting up much resistance now.  
  
Sophia sighed as Taylor broke the kiss. She made it up to the athlete, though, lowering her head back down to Sophia’s chest. Her nipples were just as stiff and achingly hard as when Taylor had left them. She got back to work, licking and lightly biting the erect nubs.  
  
Sophia reacted in the loveliest way possible. She cried out so loud Taylor was surprised nobody came in to see what was happening. She writhed around so much Taylor had to use her free arm to hold her down. Otherwise, Sophia might have rolled off the desk. As it was, she made a mess of the papers stacked up on the desk and her shoes beat a tattoo against the side of the desk.  
  
And Sophia hadn’t even cum yet. Taylor couldn’t wait to see how she reacted when her orgasm finally hit her again. She might have to get a gag. It would obviously be a pair of panties. The only question would be if it would be more fun if it was her panties or Sophia’s panties. All right, another question was if there would even be a need.  
  
It turned out, there wasn’t. Sophia slapped her hand over her mouth and screamed into it, muffling her cries. Taylor smiled and shrugged, before getting back to work. It wasn’t like Sophia was going to pleasure herself. Or rather, she could, but Taylor saw no reason to let her do so.  
  
Taylor played Sophia’s body like an instrument, coaxing out a symphony of lovely, lewd sounds. So much wet arousal collected on Taylor’s fingers and Sophia’s thighs (and the desk) that Taylor wondered how Sophia could have any water left in her. And as much as she did, Sophia kept on coming back for more.  
  
Taylor wasn’t sure how many orgasms she got out of Sophia. After a while, Sophia’s reactions when she came blended into the general panting and moaning she was displaying as Taylor teased her body. It was such a lovely sight. And a lovely taste when Taylor lowered herself down for some oral action.  
  
Finally, even Taylor was tired. Her jaw and hands were cramping up, and when she stood up, she felt a bit woozy as the blood rushed to her head. But Sophia was in much worse shape. Although she was probably enjoying herself a lot more than Taylor.  
  
Sophia was sprawled out on the desk, her eyes staring blankly upward. Her chest rose and fell as she took deep breaths. She looked like a girl who had just been thoroughly fucked. Taylor smiled, and ruffled her hair. Sophia made a noise of acknowledgment, but nothing more. There was no way she was up for another round, or for relieving the ache in Taylor’s lower belly. Taylor sighed and mentally shrugged. The life of a Companion was full of hardships, after all.  
  
And the ache wasn’t too bad. It was nothing compared to that horrible time when Taylor had almost soaked her panties watching some interracial porn, only to have to zip up and go on a long car ride. Two hours, that had been, sandwiched in between two people without a chance of relief. The only ‘good’ part of it had been that when they’d finally arrived, Taylor hadn’t been horny anymore, so she didn’t have to spend the rest of the busy, busy day burning with an unfilled need.  
  
In comparison, the heat in Taylor’s belly was no more than a hearthfire, compared to the inferno that Taylor had started with that day, or the glowing smudge she had ended the day with. In fact, it felt kind of nice to feel her arousal, a nice glow spreading throughout her body. The satisfaction of a job well done, and attending to a horny girl, lowered some of Taylor’s social barriers.  
  
“Shouldn’t an athlete have better endurance?” Taylor asked teasingly. Sophia didn’t give the slightest sign she heard her.  
  
Making a sound that was half a laugh and half a sigh, Taylor coaxed Sophia onto her feet. Looping an arm over her shoulder, she started walking out of the classroom. After a few feet, Sophia got her feet in gear enough to match Taylor’s slow pace. The rest of her was still out of it, though.  
  
Taylor guided Sophia out of the classroom and down the hallway. She passed the class they were both supposed to be in without even slowing down (though she was already moving so slow that to go any slower would have been a dead stop). Sophia was obviously out of it for the next hour or so, and that meant Taylor should take her to the nurse. As fun as it would be to practice her Companion techniques and take Sophia out of it for the rest of the _day_ , Taylor knew she shouldn’t.  
  
It was easy enough to spin a convincing enough lie to the nurse when the duo arrived. The trick was to act like Sophia had something bad enough to warrant a stay in the nurse’s office, but not so bad that she’d be sent home or to the hospital.  
  
Sophia looked very cute as she rested underneath the sheets. She wasn’t entirely asleep, but she wasn’t really awake either. Taylor sat down next to her, a small, soft smile on her lips as she looked at her. Sophia looked at peace with the world right now, a look she never had when she was awake. There was none of the fire, none of the anger present; just a calmness as she rested from her fun with Taylor.  
  
Taylor reached out and took Sophia’s hand. She cradled it in both of her own, softly stroking it. Her fingers ran along the curves and grooves of Sophia. Taylor was willing to stay here for as long as it took, to make sure Sophia didn’t wake up alone.  
  
Taylor doubted Sophia would thank her for it, but she wasn’t doing this for a display of gratitude. Sophia should know that there was someone around who cared about her, and wanted her to be happy. Sophia was worth it, after all. She tried to keep her better qualities hidden, even from herself, but Taylor knew they were there. A strong sense of loyalty, for one. Not easily given, but not easily broken either.  
  
Yes, Taylor thought. She was lucky to have Sophia in her life. And Sophia was lucky to have her, in turn.  


* * *

  



	2. Chapter 2

Charity hadn’t really gotten used to thinking of herself as Bakuda yet. Yes, if there was news report about her or the ABB, she could make the connection between her and the figure on the screen. But she still referred to herself as Charity inside her head.  
  
The same didn’t apply for Lung or Oni Lee. Even though she knew their ‘real’ names, it was somehow impossible to think of them as anything besides Lung and Oni Lee. Even right now, when neither she nor Lee were in costume, or even doing on the job stuff.  
  
“Why are we here, again?” Charity asked, subjecting her companion to a narrow-eyed stare. Lee’s face was barely more expressive without the mask than with it on, but Charity didn’t need many facial cues to guess what he was thinking. When someone suggested they go for some female company, it was easy enough to connect the dots.  
  
Yes, Charity was a lesbian. That didn’t mean her idea of a good time was going to some sort of sleazy strip club to ogle girls who only looked good thanks to the booze and bad lighting. Something that _was_ a good time was indulging her inner genius, making the wonderful, wonderful toys only Charity could make.  
  
If Charity hadn’t stabbed herself with a screwdriver trying to assemble a bomb, she wouldn’t even have listened to Oni Lee. But there was something to be said for taking some time off, which Charity hadn’t in the past two days. So, grumbling all the while, she had packed her gear up and left with Oni Lee.  
  
And now the two of them were standing outside an utterly generic house in an utterly generic neighborhood. Christ, at least Oni Lee could have the decency to take her to an _official_ strip club. Charity side-eyed the fuck out of Oni Lee before looking back at the building.  
  
As she looked at it, she realized there was a gold seal in the corner of one window. Examining it, she realized that this was an officially-recognized Companion location. That _was_ a surprise. Though she guessed that, as a crime boss, Oni Lee had the money to afford a Companion’s rates.  
  
And that meant that this might not be all that bed. Charity had never visited a Companion before, but they were supposed to be very good at helping people. Part therapist, part conversation partner, part hooker. And Charity did have a thing for older women. Yeah, if there was an experienced woman running this place, she should be able to meet Charity’s standards.  
  
“They do good work here,” Oni Lee said. It was the first time he had spoken since they had left Char- Bakuda’s workshop. “They should help you relax.”  
  
“Right,” Charity said distractedly. She was mostly thinking about what she would ask her Companion to do.  
  
Charity wouldn’t admit it, but she was a bit nervous. She wasn’t a virgin, but the thought of an imminent sexual encounter was a bit unsettling to her. How would Lung take care of this? Okay, bad choice. Well, she’d just have to wait and see who she got before making any further plans.  
  
Following Oni Lee, Charity stepped into the house. Oni Lee was already talking to the middle-aged man standing next to the door. Getting closer, Charity heard her name being mentioned.  
  
A lot of names followed, shared between Oni Lee and the man. Charity wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, since neither of them explained what they were talking about. She did understand ‘And your female friend can go down the hall, second door on the left.’ Charity started down the hall, wondering just how good this would be.  
*******  
Charity was disappointed. And, as Cornell University could attest, that was a very bad thing to have happen to her or anyone around her. She was one step away from storming out of here and coming back with an example of what she had been working on.  
  
She had been expecting some older woman, who knew her way around a woman’s body and could pamper Charity. Instead, she was in a small room with a girl even younger than she was. The white girl was as thin as a stick and Charity couldn’t possibly see her knowing how to handle a woman.  
  
“Is this a joke?” Charity snapped, giving her best glare to the girl. She’d been a fool to get her hopes up when she saw the massage table in the center of the room.  
  
“No?” the girl answered. Behind her large glasses, she looked as confused as Charity was. But not nearly as angry. “What do you think is a joke?”  
  
“That _you_ ,” Charity pointed a finger at her, “could possibly a Companion. Companions are smart and attractive and a ton of things you obviously aren’t.”  
  
Red appeared on the girl’s cheeks as she obviously bit back her first response. Taking a deep breath, she waited for a few seconds before responding. Obviously counting to ten, something Charity had never bothered with. That was a way for the weak to try and hide their weakness.  
  
“I _am_ a Companion. In training, but still a Companion. My name is Taylor, and your friend especially asked for me to be assigned to you -“  
  
“Lee…” Charity bit out. The bastard chose _now_ to get a sense of humor? Standing up, Charity started for the door, quite willing to walk right over the apprentice they were trying to fob off on her.  
  
“Wait, wait!” Taylor said, holding up her hands. “I can tell you’re upset, and I want to know if there’s any way I can help! Would you like a massage? I’ve been practicing, and can give really good ones.” She held up her hands and wiggled her fingers in demonstration.  
  
Charity kept on glaring at Taylor, her mind turning over the options. On the one hand, she would get some satisfaction about tearing a strip off of this runt’s hide and stalking off. On the other, her shoulders were rather stiff from bending over a workbench for the past two days straight.  
  
“Fine,” Charity bit out. “Do what I’m sure you think is your best.” The look that flashed over Taylor’s face prompted a small, hard smile from Charity.  
  
Grumbling under her breath, Charity undressed. She debated whether to stay in her underwear, or to go completely nude. In the end, she decided to strip all the way. She knew she was beautiful and no reason to hide herself right now.  
  
Laying down on the massage table, she cleared her throat. Taylor turned around and smiled at Charity. Stepping around to the head of the table, she gently pushed Charity’s head down into the head rest. Some soft, vacuous music had started to play, and the lights had dimmed. Charity thought it might have been erotic if Taylor had the kind of body that inspired lust.  
Charity tensed up as she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders. They were slick with some kind of oil, that was either naturally warm or transmitted Taylor’s body heat very well. That gave Charity the idea for a kind of bomb, one that would put sticky, clinging napalm to shame. With an effort, she pushed the schematics out of her brain. It would be no good to think about that stuff now when she didn’t have her supplies.  
  
Instead, Charity tried to think on nothing at all. That was actually pretty hard. For as long as she could remember, Charity’s mind had always been buzzing with ideas, facts and theories. And she had never wanted it to stop. Her brain was why the daughter of a dirt-poor refugee and a social worker had managed to get all the way to Cornell. Charity trembled with anger as her thoughts once again touched on the sore spot of what had happened at Cornell.  
  
“Is everything all right?” Taylor asked, her hands leaving the base of Charity’s neck. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”  
  
Unseen by anyone, Charity’s lips drew back from the snarl she had unconsciously made. That part of her life was over and done. She was with the ABB now, and wouldn’t have to deal with any moron criticizing her research ever again.  
  
“No… No, I’m fine,” Charity said in a flat voice. “Keep going.”  
  
Taylor didn’t respond, but started massaging Charity after a few seconds. Her long fingers dug into Charity’s skin, pressing against her muscles. Charity forced herself to relax, letting the tension and wariness flow out of her as much as possible.  
  
Since thinking about work was obviously out, Charity did her best to think about Taylor’s massage. And while she had never gotten one before, she had to admit that Taylor seemed to be pretty good. Certainly compared to trying to rub the knots out of her back on her own.  
  
There was pain, yes, but it wasn’t very bad pain. Charity knew it was from Taylor trying to get knots of muscle to relax, digging her fingers, palm, whatever, into the tight knots to get them to relax. There were a lot of knots and built-up tension inside Charity, and in half an hour, Taylor hadn’t once moved away from Charity’s shoulders and neck.  
  
“Would you like to talk about anything?” Taylor asked, her voice barely louder than the synthesized music playing.  
  
“Like what?” Charity had no plans to actually share details with a stranger, but part of her was curious about what other people told a Companion.  
  
“Most anything, really,” Taylor said in a light voice. “People want to talk about their jobs, their families, talk in general, anything, really.”  
  
Charity snorted. Just the kind of idle blabber idiots would do. Why had she bothered to ask? It wasn’t as if ninety percent of people had a real thought in their heads, instead of just repeating anything they were told.  
  
“I’ll pass,” Charity said, amused contempt lacing her voice.  
  
Picking up Charity’s left arm, Taylor dropped it onto the table. Charity was surprised at how different it felt to get a massage on her comparatively meaty arm instead of her bony shoulders. There was a lot more rubbing, with Charity feeling her muscles sliding around underneath her skin. Which, oddly enough, was a very minor version of what the bomb she had been working on did.  
  
“You have a _lot_ of tension built up,” Taylor commented, her fingers pressing almost painfully against a point in Charity’s bicep. “Are you under a lot of stress?”  
  
“Pressure makes diamonds,” Charity muttered into the headrest. That had been what her mother told her every time a younger Charity had complained about the extra classes and courses she had been signed up for.  
  
“Or it breaks the recipient,” Taylor shot back.  
  
Charity bristled, even under the neutral tone Taylor used. She wasn’t used to anybody questioning her, not when she couldn’t easily prove them wrong.  
  
Charity honestly wasn’t sure how much time had passed. There just seemed to be a never ending feeling of Taylor’s warm, skillful hands moving all over Charity’s body. From her neck to her arms down to her legs, Taylor seemed to have a sixth sense for leaving Charity unbelievably relaxed.  
  
By the time Charity felt content enough to be up to talking with Taylor, she couldn’t think of anything to talk _about_. She was just far too at peace to want to ruin it by opening her mouth and talking. It was so much better to just lay there and let Taylor do her work.  
  
“Turn over, please.”  
  
Charity went along with the request, not caring that she was baring herself to Taylor. The thought of more of this wonderful feeling was more than enough to get Charity to lay on her back, legs slightly spread. And her decision was amply rewarded when Taylor started to massage her front, starting with her shoulders again.  
  
“I think I’ve gotten most of the tension out of your back. I’ll come back in a bit to see if there’s anything I missed. In the meantime, I’ll work on the rest of your body.”  
  
“Alright,” Charity mumbled. Whatever Taylor wanted to do was fine with her. Just so long as those fingers kept on digging into her.  
  
The arm massage that Taylor gave her felt even better the second time around. Maybe it was because of how much more relaxed Charity was feeling. But the fingers and palm and heel making her muscles slide around felt good in ways Charity couldn’t describe. By the time Taylor had worked her way from Charity’s shoulder to her fingers on both arms, Charity didn’t think she was even able to lift her arms anymore.  
  
“If at any point you feel uncomfortable, just let me know,” Taylor said as she slid her hands down Charity’s torso. Charity thought that the warning should have been given earlier, but she honestly didn’t care that much. It wouldn’t do any harm if Taylor got a handful of a grown woman’s breasts.  
  
The few times Charity had been naked in front of another woman, she had been aroused, for obvious reasons. But she wasn’t now, even if she felt a lot better than she had with any of her sexual encounters. It wasn’t that Charity would turn down a fingering from Taylor if it was offered, it was more that she just didn’t see the point. Taylor’s hands, gliding over her body, were so skilled and wonderful that even an orgasm seemed like a waste, a distraction from Taylor’s attentions.  
  
Charity still got aroused when Taylor came to her upper thighs, the girl kneading and rubbing her well-developed muscles there. But it was still only a small spark in a larger sea of leisurely bliss. If Taylor did give her a happy ending, well, Charity wouldn’t complain. But it felt too good for Charity to bother asking.  
  
And if a happy ending was on the table, it seemed that it would only be as a, well, _ending_. Taylor’s hands stayed resolutely professional, even when her fingers were right at the inner join of Charity’s thighs and body, only an inch or two from Charity’s slit.  
  
Charity wondered what her body looked like right now. Taylor had gone all over her, rubbing that massage oil into her skin. She was probably glistening in the low light. But it was too much of an effort to open her eyes and check. Not when Charity could just keep on lying here, letting Taylor work her magic.  
  
Charity had thought she would be satisfied if she left without the constant twinges of pain in her shoulders and neck. But Taylor was doing so much more. It was almost like she was kneading away Charity’s bones, leaving her more and more relaxed. It felt better than Charity could have guessed, leaving her more loose and flexible than Charity could remember having ever been.  
  
“How long have you been training as a masseuse?” Charity asked in a quiet, relaxed voice. She was curious about how long it took to get this good at pleasurably manipulating someone’s body.  
  
“Well, that’s kind of hard to say,” Taylor said. “Companion training starts at twelve, for me, at least. And we learn about a _lot_ of different things. But I’ve really been focusing on massages for the past five months. Along with dancing, fashion, how to organize a party, and normal school work.”  
  
Charity softly snorted. Who would have thought that the effortless glamor Companions had in popular culture required a lot of hard work? Besides anyone with half a brain. Which excluded most of humanity.  
  
“Also, if you wouldn’t mind filling out a survey when you’re done, that would be appreciated.” There was a note of amused embarrassment in Taylor’s voice.  
  
Charity snorted again. Maybe she’d do that, maybe not. She’d just have to see how she felt when the massage was done. Whenever that was. Charity couldn’t remember how long the session was supposed to be, or how long she had spent in here. It could have been anywhere between twenty minutes or an hour. Charity had never lost herself like this except over her workbench. A small smile flickered over her face. And it was because of her losing herself over the workbench that she was in here.  
  
Charity had closed her eyes at the beginning of the session because there was nothing better to stare at then a dimly lit carpet. But now she had them closed because it would be entirely too much effort to open them. Charity hadn’t felt this relaxed and comfortable in… well, ever. Taylor hands, arms and elbows had done more to get Charity to relax than anything else she could ever remember.  
  
Charity realized she was about to fall asleep, even with someone touching her all over. Taylor was just that good at making her feel relaxed. Even when Taylor started massaging her face, her fingers digging into Charity’s features, she felt nothing more than a bone-deep sense of contentment.  
  
As Taylor kept on working on Charity’s face, she could actually feel her face sagging, her muscles so thoroughly relaxed by Taylor’s hands. It was kind of an odd sensation, yet relaxing at the same time.  
  
Charity wished that she could somehow make a massage bomb. But even if she could, she could already imagine Lung’s reaction when he learned what she had wasted her time (and that meant _his_ time) on. Charity flinched.  
  
“Sorry, did that hurt?” Taylor asked anxiously. “I can go to another part of your body if you’d like.” That she raised her hands was something truly terrible for Charity.  
  
“No, just keep going,” Charity muttered, trying to push the idea away.  
  
Even with her eyes closed, Charity could see the doubtful expression on Taylor’s face. But after a few seconds, she started kneading Charity’s face again. Charity could only imagine what kinds of silly expressions she was making as Taylor played with her face.  
  
Taylor’s return to Charity’s neck and shoulders was very brief. She proclaimed herself fully satisfied with the lack of knots and tension in Charity’s upper body. Charity agreed with her. The aches and pains that had been there so long she had gotten used to them had become nothing more than a memory for Charity, entirely due to Taylor’s fingers.  
  
Taylor ran her hands down Charity’s sides in one long, slow, smooth motion. Charity couldn’t believe how good it felt, feeling her skin and muscle slide around underneath Taylor’s hands. In fact, Charity didn’t think there was a single spot of tension left in her entire body. Or any motivation. All Charity wanted to do was to keep on laying there, feeling Taylor knead and massage her body. Not speak, not move around, not do anything but let Taylor work her magic.  
  
Taylor’s hands left Charity’s body, and didn’t come back. It was long enough for her to start wondering what was happening, and if it was worth it to open her eyes. Just as Charity’s tired, relaxed mind had decided it was, a warm blanket was put on top of her. It had obviously been heated, the warmth radiating off of it soaking into Charity’s body.  
  
Charity looked up into Taylor’s eyes. The Companion smiled down at her and patted her shoulder through the blanket. Charity smiled back, and then wondered how long it had been since she had last done that.  
  
“Feel free to stay here as long as you like, ma’am,” Taylor said. “If there’s anything you’d like to talk about, I can stay in here. Or if you’d like to take a nap, that’s fine as well.”  
  
Charity frowned, as much as she could muster up any feeling besides contentment. She didn’t want this to end. She wanted to keep on feeling Taylor’s hands moving over her body forever. And she said as much.  
  
“Hah ah ha,” Taylor laughed, in a light, happy tone. “Thank you for the compliment. But I’m afraid that after an hour’s worth of work, my hands are cramping up something awful. If you’d like, my mother’s in the building. I could see if she’s free and willing to give you another massage. But I’m not sure how much more there is to do. I worked over your muscles pretty thoroughly.” Charity had to agree with that. That, in fact, was why she wanted more. “Unless you want the,” Taylor coughed significantly, “full-body massage, I’m not sure what there is left to do.”  
  
A full-body massage, eh? Charity knew exactly what Taylor was implying with that. And did she want one, especially one from someone who was even more of a stranger than Taylor? An orgasm always felt great, obviously. But the heights of pleasure Charity associated with that didn’t seem like it fit that well with the relaxed contentment that was currently flowing through her body like a fluffy cloud.  
  
“No, that’s fine,” Charity said in a quiet voice. Those two days straight without sleeping were catching up to her. “Just stay…”  
  
Charity was asleep before she could finish the sentence. In the last few seconds of her half-consciousness, she felt a hand slide underneath the blanket and grab her own hand. Charity went to sleep with a smile on her face.  
  
  


* * *

  



	3. Chapter 3

**Companionship 3**

  
“Hello, Missy,” Taylor said, opening the door and smiling down at the incognito superhero.  
  
“Hi, Taylor,” Missy replied, her lips twitching upwards up in a smile. “How are you?”  
  
“Quite good,” Taylor said, ushering Missy inside. “And I hope you’re doing good, too?”  
  
“Ugh,” Missy groaned, taking off her coat and shoes. “I _don’t_ want to talk about it now.”  
  
Taylor looked down at her… friend? Client? Training partner? With some concern. She patted Missy’s shoulder in sympathy.  
  
“Maybe we can talk about it later over tea. But,” and now Taylor’s smile was completely genuine, “that’s not what you came here for, is it?”  
  
“Nope!” Missy said, smiling. “And I’ve thought up of some new tricks to try.”  
  
“Fun,” Taylor said, leading Missy deeper into the building. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”  
  
Taylor was already dressed in her costume. On her feet were soft slippers, a soothing green color. On the rest of her body, she wore a long, flowing silk costume in several colors, with ribbons hanging off her arms. Taylor knew she wasn’t as conventionally attractive as most Companions were, but this costume went a long way towards making the up the gap.  
  
Taylor led Missy into the small room she used as a training room, as well as several other things. Missy made a beeline for her chair, plopping down in it and staring intently at Taylor. Taylor had actually put some thought into that chair, making certain she got one that didn’t dwarf Missy, and also that wasn’t so small and childish it would be insulting.  
  
Taylor turned on the music, a soft, humming track. It was intended more to give Taylor a point of reference to work off of then to be enjoyable to listen to. Taylor turned back so she was facing Missy, and closed her eyes. And then she started to dance.  
  
All Companions learned how to dance, and they learned quite a few different dances. With partners, by themselves, erotic and not, there were so many different methods to learn. And Taylor was still learning them. And Missy was helping her, in a way no Companion had ever been helped before.  
  
Taylor lifted her arms to one side, starting in what her instructor called The Sailing Ship. She knew several dozen similar positions, and was only able to figure out why they had the names they did for three or four of them. But she didn’t need to understand them to do them.  
  
Taylor started moving with the music, flowing through the small room like water through rocks. Her feet twisted and turned against the tiled floor, and her ribbons flowed after her, in all the colors of the rainbow. So far, it was all so, so easy as Taylor bent and swayed, throwing out her long arms and legs and making the colors on her body flow and blend into each other.  
  
And then the challenge started. It was subtle at first, just the slightest feeling that she was no longer on level ground. Instead, the floor seemed to be at a bit of an incline, sloping upwards slightly. Taylor kept her eyes closed and kept on dancing, swaying her hips in time with the soft beat. Her feet were still sure and confident, moving along the floor.  
  
If Taylor kept her ears peeled, she could just barely hear the sounds Missy was making. The soft sighs, the rustle as she shifted in her seat as she watched Taylor. But sound was the only connection Missy had to Taylor right now. She wouldn’t open her eyes. Not until the dance was over, one way or another.  
  
As the track changed, Taylor changed her dancing, too, moving to something that was a bit more energetic and free-spirited. And that was going to be more of a challenge then just moving around faster. Taylor could already feel it tugging at her.  
  
There was a curve in space, right behind her. Taylor could tell it was there by the way the ribbons dangling from her arms moved, not brushing against her bare upper arms in quite the right way. She wasn’t sure how large it was, or what exactly it would do. But it was there, and Taylor had no choice but to incorporate it into her dance, just like she already had to do with the chair Missy was in, or the walls.  
  
Keeping her eyes firmly shut, Taylor drifted around the room, her feet barely touching the floor as she danced. She could feel the room altering more and more. Not quickly, and not very much of it. But it was changing, and there was no way for Taylor to stop it. She could feel the alterations tugging at her, threatening to trip her up at any moment if Taylor didn’t pay the utmost attention.  
  
It was exhilarating. Taylor was getting pushed, beyond the limits of anything anyone else could come up with. And she couldn’t even use her eyes. At the beginning, she could, and she had still messed up. Then Missy had given her a blindfold to wear, forcing Taylor to rely on her other senses. And it had worked so much better.  
  
Now, Taylor could glide through the room, even as it twisted around on itself. It wasn’t easy, it required every drop of Taylor’s concentration, but she could do it. And it was exhilarating _to_ do. The challenge to Taylor’s skill was only one part of it.  
  
There was also the fact that she was making Missy happy. The best Companions loved their work, loved making people happy. And Taylor was good at it, especially when she was doing something so unique and special. Taylor didn’t think that there was another dancing pair in the entire world who preformed like this.  
  
Missy was a wonderful dancing partner, even if she never left the chair she was sitting on. Taylor could feel her gaze, wandering over Taylor’s silk-clad body as she swayed through the dance, slowly weaving through all the alterations Missy had made to the room. Missy never cheated, making the curves in space so extreme that Taylor couldn’t dance through them, or so sudden that there was no way for Taylor to tell that they were there.  
  
Like this one that Taylor was dancing through right now. She could feel herself moving upward, the floor becoming the wall, and gravity shifting to match it. But the change only went a few feet up. The upper half of Taylor’s body was still under normal gravity even as she danced on the wall.  
  
Taylor could feel her long hair and the ribbons hanging down, even as her feet confidently tapped against the floor. She knew it would really be something to watch, when she played back the video recording she was making of this. And, thankfully, her silk dancing outfit stayed in place, not sliding aside to give Missy a look at something she wasn’t supposed to see.  
  
Taylor knew what sex was, and this wasn’t it. Not quite, at least. But it was very close. Dancing was already close to sex, at least, most of the kinds of dancing that Companions learned. And Missy was being even more intimate, even more controlling then most dancing partners.  
  
Missy was controlling where Taylor would go, how she should act, far more then almost anyone else could. And Missy never said a word, never left her chair. Taylor didn’t even dance that close to her, normally. Although, from time to time, Taylor _did_ think she could feel Missy’s breath on the back of her neck.  
  
And it wasn’t all hazards, either. Missy also changed the room to support Taylor, at least a few times. Taylor could feel gravity sliding around, letting her pull off moves that even someone more limber and more skilled couldn’t have managed.  
  
Taylor felt wonderfully graceful, gliding around like she had wings as she danced to the Arabian electronic music. She could feel herself being challenged and supported by Missy, the young superheroine using her powers in equal measure to help and hinder Taylor.  
  
Taylor did her very best to put on a good show for Missy, rewarding her young friend’s efforts by gracefully flowing through the motions, feeling the ribbons twirl around her and brush against the skin that the costume bared. And with every step and slide, Taylor felt herself sinking deeper and deeper into the dance, shutting out everything else but the music and the room.  
  
Taylor swayed from one end of the room to another, and she didn’t always stay on the floor. Missy brought her along the walls, or the ceiling, or even let her dance in midair. The last didn’t last for long, just long enough for Taylor to put her foot on the dense curve and launch herself off of it in a move that only astronauts could replicate.  
  
Taylor gracefully floated through the room, her lithe body moving like a willow in the breeze, all for an audience of one. Through it all, Taylor didn’t open her eyes, letting the music carry her through her movements, trusting Missy to provide just enough of a challenge to make her sweat, but still make sure that Taylor could overcome it.  
  
Taylor could feel Missy’s eyes crawling over her. Taylor was showing a lot of skin, though it wasn’t out right lewd. Her midriff was exposed, and so were her shoulders and upper arms, the garment looping down to cover her lower arms and her palms. It was exotic and colorful enough to draw people’s attentions, without being sexual. Taylor knew Missy loved the outfit, and loved what it represented. That Taylor was willing to dance for her, with her, in a show that Missy was the only one allowed to see.  
  
Not even Taylor was allowed to see her performance, at least not while she was actually dancing. Taylor thought it was a little weird how Missy wanted to keep her dances all to herself, but it was an enjoyable enough challenge that Taylor really didn’t mind. And Missy needed a way to relax.  
  
As a Companion, even a Companion in training, Taylor spent a lot of time with the superheroes of the city. Companions spent a lot of time with the adult superheroes, so Taylor spent a lot of time with the teenage superheroes, so that when they both grew older, Taylor would have a lot of familiarity to draw on.  
  
She didn’t know most of the Protectorate or the Wards beyond their cape name, except for Vista and Shadow Stalker. Shadow Stalker, because Sophia was friends with Emma, just like Taylor was. And Vista, because Missy flat out needed a friend. That wasn’t strictly inside the guidelines for either the Wards or the Companions, but Taylor and Missy made it work.  
  
And this was how the two of them spent their time together, justifying it to whoever asked as practice for the both of them. Taylor would dance, finding new ways to show off, and Missy would stretch her powers, finding subtler ways to use them as Taylor moved around the room. It was glorious and exhilarating for Taylor, doing something that no one else could do.  
  
It had been an odd start, which, to be fair, matched the odd relationship they had. One day, while Taylor had been waiting for the Wards to show up, she had started dancing, trying to master a move that had been giving her trouble. Halfway through the routine, the door had opened and Vista, in full costume had walked into the lounge.  
  
“Keep going,” Vista had said, when Taylor stopped.  
  
Taylor had shrugged, and started the routine again, trying to move her body in just the right way. Vista had sat down to watch, much like Missy was doing right now. After a few more tries, Taylor had given up in frustration and sat down next to Vista, wanting to start on the real reason she was here.  
  
As Taylor and Vista chatted, the green-clad superheroine revealed that she loved dancing, even if she wasn’t any good at it herself. Taylor had promised to show off her routine to Vista once she mastered it. From there, their relationship developed, quicker and deeper then Taylor’s bonds with most of the other superheroes. Until it ended up with Missy, wearing casual clothes, watching Taylor preform for her.  
  
Occasionally, Taylor thought she could feel the lightest of brushes against her. It was never enough to be sure, or to make her open her eyes to check. And they weren’t very sensual touches, either. The slightest feeling of fingertips brushing over Taylor’s bony shoulders, maybe, or a phantom’s touch against her cheek. Taylor never mentioned them, and Missy never did, either.  
  
If that was what Missy wanted to do, Taylor was happy to accommodate her whims. Especially since they didn’t interfere with her dancing. The rare touches were never enough to distract Taylor, even when she was blindly threading her through a challenging twisting of space.  
  
Taylor’s feet hit against the floor in a steady rhythm as she danced, ribbons and her clothing flying at odd angles as Missy’s distortions worked their magic. Taylor could hear her breath burning in her lungs, and her heart pounding. Dancing like this was exhausting, to both the mind and the body. But it was rewarding.  
  
After twenty minutes, Taylor came to a halt, panting. Her slender shoulders rose and fell as she fought for breath. Her legs were trembling with fatigue as the music finally stopped, the final slow, soft strains of the recording gently fading into silence.  
  
Opening her eyes, Taylor turned to look at Missy. The young superheroine had a rapturous look on her face as she stared back at Taylor. Her youthful smile sent a shiver down Taylor’s spine.  
  
“That was wonderful, Taylor,” Missy said, sliding out of her chair and standing up. “You looked so beautiful like that.”  
  
“Thank you, Missy,” Taylor said, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe her forehead. “You were pretty good yourself. You almost had me on that,” Taylor frowned, gesturing with her hands, trying to describe a shape not even a theoretical physicist could give a name to. “Um, stretchy, tube thing.”  
  
“Really?” Missy asked, smiling as she took Taylor’s hand. “I was worried that might be a bit too hard for you, especially when you were already trying that, what did you call it, The Shaking Tower?”  
  
Missy and Taylor chatted as they left the ad-hoc dance studio and entered the bathroom. Missy stared out the door as Taylor undressed and hopped into the shower. She quickly cleaned off, the two of them still discussing the dance, and what they could do next time.  
  
Redressed in something more comfortable then her silk costume, Taylor walked, hand in hand with Missy into the lounge. She was still feeling exhausted after her dancing, so as soon as Missy sat down on the couch, Taylor plopped her head into Missy’s lap. She smiled, staring up into Missy’s hazel eyes. Missy flushed a bit and smiled back.  
  
“Is there anything you would like to talk about?” Taylor asked.  
  
“I don’t know,” Missy sighed, looking away momentarily. “It’s just, it’s all so frustrating, you know?” Without thinking about, she started running her fingers through Taylor’s hair, her small fingers sliding through the long, black curls. “I put in more hours a week then anybody else on the Wards, and I don’t get any respect for it!”  
  
“You know how Aegis is moving soon?” Missy continued, scowling at something in the distance. “So we’re going to need a new leader, once he ages out. We were talking about who it could be, and Director Piggot told me that there was no way I was _ever_ going to become the team leader, not while a single Ward who was already on the team was still there. _Shadow Stalker_ would become the team leader before I would. Shadow Stalker! I have more experience in my left hand then she does in her whole body. It’s just so, urgh!” Missy growled, her hands closing into fists while her fingers were still wrapped in Taylor’s hair.  
  
Wincing, Taylor gently but quickly removed Missy’s hands from her head. Sitting up, she leaned forward and wrapped Missy in a tight hug, pressing the younger girl close to her. Missy tensed up for a second and then grudgingly relaxed, returning the hug.  
  
Taylor ran her hand up and down Missy’s back, in slow, circular motions. That was about all she _could_ do for Missy, beyond letting her vent. Even if Taylor had any real influence with the Protectorate, she wasn’t supposed to tell anyone anything about what happened during her sessions. Certainly not to advance someone’s career, even if she was Taylor’s friend.  
  
“They treat me like I’m an idiot,” Missy said, her face pressed against Taylor’s chest. “That just because I’m the shortest and the youngest person in the room, nothing I say matters.”  
  
“Do all of them treat you like that?” Taylor asked, frowning. She had met most of the Wards and Protectorate, at one time or another. And most of them had seemed like decent enough people.  
  
“No, not all of them,” Missy admitted, her grip tightening around Taylor’s sides. “Aegis is always nice and thoughtful, and so is Gallant. But the PRT! Ugh, the only people they listen to are other grown-ups. And Piggot’s the worst of them all. Every time we talk, I can hear ‘Go along little girl, and play with your dolls. Leave the thinking to the grown-ups.’ I’m out there six days a week, and I might as well have my mouth stitched shut for all I get listened to!”  
  
Missy’s voice was starting to wobble, as if she was on the verge of tears. Taylor hugged her tighter, as tight as she could, resting her chin against the top of Missy’s head. She had no idea what she should do. She more or less had an idea on what to do as a Companion when a client emotionally unburdened themselves, but Missy was a lot more than a client to Taylor.  
  
“No, I shouldn’t be doing this,” Missy said, leaning back from Taylor. She looked away from the older teen, visibly bottling up her emotions. “This is supposed to be a happy time. I shouldn’t be whining about my job during it.”  
  
Taylor ached to wrap Missy up tight and tell her that she didn’t have to act like everything was fine in front of her. But Taylor knew how prickly Missy could get. Her walls were already pretty high up, and they’d only get stronger if Taylor tried to press the issue.  
  
“Spending time with you is never a waste,” Taylor said, feeling like she was inching through a minefield. “If you don’t want to talk about this,” and Taylor really wished Missy would, “is there something else you would like to do?”  
  
Missy laid her head back against Taylor’s chest, the side of her face pressed against Taylor’s t-shirt. She stared off into the empty lounge. She sighed heavily, sounding far older than she really was.  
  
Taylor patiently waited, not wanting to crowd in on Missy’s thoughts. She kept Missy in a hug, resting her arms around Missy’s hips. One thumb had slipped beneath Missy’s shirt and was slowly rubbing in circles against her bare skin.  
  
“Maybe I should transfer,” Missy said, sighing heavily. “Maybe if I went to another city, under another director, I could get someone who sees how much I’m worth.”  
  
“I’d miss you, if you left,” Taylor said, her breath making Missy’s blonde hair stir. “But if you think you could make it work, I’d say go for it.”  
  
“I can’t,” Missy admitted. “My parents would never sign the paperwork. And I wouldn’t want to leave everyone here. I’d miss you too. And…” Missy trailed off, a slight blush on her cheeks.  
  
Taylor nodded. She knew Missy had a crush on _somebody_ , even though she didn’t know who. Taylor hadn’t fallen in love herself. At least, not with anybody who had the slightest chance of returning her affections. Taylor had kept the form letters she’d gotten back from Hollywood for a few months after her crush ended before getting rid of them.  
  
Taylor knew it would have to be even worse to actually see the real boy or girl Missy was attracted every day, and not be able to be with them. Taylor sighed, matching Missy. Just another thing she wasn’t able to help Missy with.  
  
“That feels nice,” Missy said, seemingly out of the blue.  
  
Taylor’s eyebrows rose to ask _what_ felt good before she realized. She was still pressing against Missy’s skin, her thumb rubbing against the top of Missy’s hip.  
  
“Would you like a massage to take your mind off of things?” Taylor asked, running her thumb in slightly larger circles, slightly higher up Missy’s side. “I don’t have the massage table ready or anything but-.”  
  
“Yeah, a massage sounds lovely,” Missy said, leaning back to smile at Taylor. She had a very cute smile, and Taylor thought she was going to have her choice of girlfriends or boyfriends in just a few years. “Though, really, I should be giving one to you. You’re the one who was getting all stretchy and bendy.”  
  
“Thanks for the offer, Missy,” Taylor said, feeling a bit uncomfortable and not sure why. “But I-.”  
  
“No, no, I want to,” Missy said, sliding off of Taylor’s lap. “You made it feel nice that time last month, so I want to do it to you.”  
  
Taylor looked at Missy for a long moment, torn between her possible decisions. Finally, she nodded, slipping her glasses off.  
  
“Okay, Missy, let’s see what you’ve got.”  
  
Taylor pulled her shirt off, leaving her in only her bra. She turned away, laying down on the couch. She turned to smile at Missy, who was suddenly looking a bit embarrassed. Then Missy’s face hardened, with the expression she must wear underneath her visor.  
  
Missy leaned forward and grabbed Taylor’s shoulders, her small hands having a surprising amount of muscle behind them. She started kneading and squeezing Taylor, pressing against the muscles, skin and bone. Taylor smiled in satisfaction. That felt really nice.  
  
“It’s a pity I don’t have all the stuff here to give a proper massage,” Taylor said, squinting at Missy’s slightly blurred face as the younger girl tried to work out how to give a massage from first principles. “It’s amazing what you can do with the right tools.”  
  
“I think I’m doing a good job,” Missy said.  
  
“You are,” Taylor agreed, butting in.  
  
“But yeah, that oil you rubbed on me, that felt amazing,” Missy continued. Then she laughed. “Though next time you should probably put it in a different bottle.”  
  
“Ha!” Taylor laughed, grinning widely. “Yeah, that was a mistake. It was good thing that it was nontoxic.”  
  
“Yeah,” Missy said giggling. “It wouldn’t be nearly as funny to tease Kid Win if he had actually gotten sick from that.”  
  
Taylor’s smile was all the wider because Missy was smiling too. It wasn’t really solving any of the problems Missy had, from her career to her parent’s divorce, but at least it was something.  
  
“Okay,” Taylor said, “My shoulders are feeling good, so move on to my arms. One arm at a time.”  
  
Missy grabbed at Taylor’s left arm, which was the one closest to her. She lifted it up, propping it over the sofa arm. She started kneading the muscles in her upper arm. Taylor nodded in satisfaction. Missy, by accident or luck, was using just the right amount of pressure to rub against Taylor. Taylor thought that Missy showed a bit of skill at giving a massage.  
  
“What do you have planned for the rest of the day?” Taylor asked.  
  
“I’ve got a patrol at six thirty,” Missy sighed. “I’m not looking forward to it.”  
  
“Anything in particular you’re dreading?” Taylor asked.  
  
“No, it’s just,” Missy sighed again. “I’m getting tired of it. The patrols are either dead boring, or we get in a thirty second fight and then spend the rest of the night filling out paperwork. Or we get in a fight and I spend the rest of the night getting medical treatment.” Her fingers started to dig into Taylor’s arm with more force. “And it’s a ride along with some of the city cops, so I’m going to get asked if I want a lollipop,” Taylor could see Missy’s scowl of disgust without actually looking up. “And it’s Sunday, so that means school tomorrow.”  
  
Taylor slid her arm out of Missy’s too-tight grasp. Rolling around, she squinted up at Missy. Taylor didn’t think anybody that young should be looking like that.  
  
“Do you have vacation time?” Taylor asked. “Just, spend a week or two off, just going to school and hanging out with non-cape friends?”  
  
“You’re my only non-cape friend,” Missy groaned. “The only one I have left. And no, I can’t ask for time off. Poor little Missy,” she scowled like thunder, “can’t hack it, so she needs to go sit in a corner and cry.”  
  
“Nobody would say that,” Taylor said, starting to feel sick to her stomach with worry.  
  
“Yes they would,” Missy said, staring down at the floor. Taylor could see some hazy tears starting to form in the corners of her eyes, and wasn’t sure if they were tears of anger or of sadness. “Not to my face, not like that, but they’d say it.”  
  
Taylor decided to take a new tack. For all she knew, Missy was right about what the Protectorate and the PRT thought of her. She’d have to ask her parents if they had heard anything about that.  
  
“Even if you can’t take time off,” Taylor said, sitting up and drawing Missy into a hug, “how about you spend some more time with me? Put in a request, saying you’d like to do more training sessions for your power with me instead of quite so many patrols? They couldn’t say no to that, could they?”  
  
Missy buried her face in the crook of Taylor’s neck and shoulder. Her short arms and small hands met behind Taylor’s back, pressing against Taylor’s bare skin and the bra strap. Her rather cold hands, actually. Taylor shivered and stopped hugging Missy, reaching behind herself to grab the blanket that had been laying on the back of the couch.  
  
Taylor drew it around the two of them, trapping her and Missy in a small, quickly warming cave. That done, she returned to hugging Missy, holding the younger girl tightly against her. Missy didn’t give much of a sign that she had noticed the blanket.  
  
“Maybe,” Missy said after a minute in thought. “It would probably mean my hours would be cut though, since I’m not actually helping by being out on the streets or doing meet and greets.”  
  
Taylor didn’t think that Missy working fewer hours would be such a bad thing. Even if it meant her career would suffer more than it already was. As she groped for her glasses, Taylor tried to think of what Missy’s interests outside of work and dancing were.  
  
“And we don’t have to actually practice,” Taylor said, trying to sweeten the pot. “We can go out and see movies, we could start our own book club, there’s plenty of things friends can do.”  
  
“I don’t know,” Missy said, in a tone Taylor recognized from quite a few different people. It meant ‘I’m going to say yes, you just have to talk me into it a bit more.’ “What if we get caught?”  
  
Taylor rubbed Missy’s back, pressing her hands against Missy’s thin shirt and into the corded muscle underneath. Missy had way more muscle on her then a girl her age should have. She cast a skeptical look down at the girl’s head.  
  
“Then we don’t leave my house,” Taylor said. “It can just be you and me, spending time with each other.” Taylor would have liked to make it more then just her and Missy, because everybody needed more then just a single friend. But that would run into questions about why Taylor was friends with a girl so much younger then her, and why Missy was the only one who got to watch Taylor dance.  
  
“That sounds nice,” Missy said tiredly. “I’ll think about it, okay? And I’ll tell you what the directors say.”  
  
Taylor craned her head to look down at Missy’s face. The blond girl’s eyes were half-closed, and her small shoulders were slowly rising and falling.  
  
“It’s still hours and hours until you need to be at the Protectorate base,” Taylor said. “How about you take a nap?” Then, to make sure that Missy didn’t think Taylor was condescending to her, she added, “I’m feeling kind of tired too.”  
  
“Yeah, that sounds good,” Missy said. “I was up late last night anyways. I can spare half an hour.”  
  
“That sounds perfect,” Taylor said as Missy shifted around on her lap. “Just get some sleep, and I’ll make sure we get up in time.”  
  
Missy turned around so she was facing away from Taylor. Then she leaned her head back, resting it against Taylor’s shoulder. Taylor looked down at the blond curls and smiled. Missy really was a cute little thing.  
  
Taylor reached down and took Missy’s hand. The small fingers wrapped around her own as Missy squeezed tightly before relaxing. And not just in her hand. Her entire body seemed to go limp as Missy closed her eyes.  
  
Taylor wrapped Missy in a one-armed hug before closing her own eyes. As she waited for sleep to overtake her, she started thinking about what she and Missy could do outside of her being Vista.  
  
Missy deserved at least part of a normal life.


End file.
